Every morning in Palm Springs, I would get up before everybody else and sit outside on the cement driveway. I would put on sunscreen and look at the neighbor’s house across the street. The neighbor had young hair and an old face. He wore silver basketball shorts. The first day, I saw him transport a painting. He asked me, “are you going to the festival today?” I nodded. He said, “The Black Keys are playing. They’re great. I watch them on the internet.”
The second day, I saw him escort a young girl to her car. He waved to me. I waved back. He asked me, “are you going to the festival today?” I nodded. He said, “The Strokes are playing. They’re great. I watch them on the internet.” Afterwards, I laid on the cement and looked at the trees move back and forth in the wind. I fell asleep for a little bit. When I woke up, the car with the young girl had returned. He walked across the street and handed me a bottle of water. “Here, it’s going to be hot today.”
Palm Springs is a weird place. But it’s nice. I didn’t stay for a third day.
written by luluandyourmom
its just too awesome.